


Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD)

by thexonexwhoxwanders



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mild Language, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sarcasm, Strong Female Characters, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-08-06 08:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16384805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thexonexwhoxwanders/pseuds/thexonexwhoxwanders
Summary: Bucky and Zora are the only benched agents at the New Avengers HQ when the others go dark at an international conference and an army comes for Bucky. They only have one choice: run. Eventual Bucky/OC.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I have several works in progress right now, and yep, I am actually working on all of them in between work/travel and such. Lots of ideas bouncing around in my head. Plus: Bucky.

“Yes, mom,” Agent Zora Haque muttered into her phone at appropriate intervals, holding the slim object precariously in the crook of her neck while she unpacked one of her countless go-bags from her latest mission. She cringed as she lifted her heavy ammo box up; her entire body felt like one big bruise.

But Jesus or Ra or Allah bless Tony Stark and his overly air-conditioned compound. Or really, just her room, since the rest of the compound was pretty well heated considering there was a light dusting of snow on the ground outside. Like the man had known she’d be this miserable. The cool air was a sweet balm for her aching body, her overheated skin. Had anyone informed her that she’d have to trudge through the interior African heat for a week straight, she would have packed lighter clothing. As it was, she had only taken her staple items: black long-sleeved shirts, the two custom black combat vests, black anti-ballistic weave pants, and yes, you guessed it, black boots.

Why wasn’t it nearly as cool to wear white?

“Are you even going to fly home to see us for Christmas this year, baby?” her mother asked in that _if-you-say-no, I-have-a-lecture-already-prepared-for-you_ tone. Zora’s eyes rolled as she tossed all of her sweaty laundry into a pile on the floor. Gods, she just wanted to take a bath. Why had she answered the phone, anyway? “Maybe you should think about taking some time off,” her mother suggested, tugging Zora’s thoughts away from the jacuzzi tub Tony had recently installed for her and back to the unpleasant conversation. It wasn’t that she and her mom weren’t on good terms – far from it, actually. It was just that Zora loved to work. And only work.

Whenever the matriarch of the Haque family pulled out _Maybe you should think about taking some time off_ was typically the worst time possible for Zora to even consider taking time off. Especially right now, with all of the Avengers sans Barnes in Switzerland for an important conference, she couldn’t afford time off. There was even more work to be done than usual.

And she loved that.

“Yeah, ma, I hear you,” Zora said, trying to muster a tone of patience and love while simultaneously reaching for her typical cover story. “There’s just a lot to do right now. You know the Embassy is short-staffed, and I just don’t think the Ambassador would appreciate having her assistant gone. Not when things are – “

Her next long-winded excuse was cut short by a blaring _BEEP BEEP BEEP_ that sounded way too much like a nuclear warfare siren for Zora’s liking, ringing throughout the New Avenger’s Compound ominously. Evidently, her mother thought this too, shrilly demanding through the phone, “Zora? Where are you? I thought you said you were at the apartment in Haiti? Is everything – “

“Uh, ma,” Zora said quickly, eyes darting around her bedroom, where absolutely nothing was amiss. There was something wrong outside. An attack? “I’m gonna have to call you back.” There was likely some universal rule against hanging up on your mother when she probably thought you were about to die – and hell, maybe she _was_ about to die – but Zora hit the _end call_ button, snatched up the second go-bag from her closet, and booked it out towards the helipad.

“FRIDAY?” she huffed out as she ran, barely taking the time to slow as she rounded corners, her boots squeaking on the recently waxed floor. With a _snap_ , she buckled her backpack to her body and palmed the Glock still holstered on her thigh, just to make sure. “What the hell is going on?”   

Even more ominous was the lack of reply from the facility’s omnipotent A.I. system. Zora ran faster.

She was just about to shove open the heavy glass doors that stood between her and the outside world when she heard the telltale _rat-a-tat-tat_ of gunfire. Inside. Pulling up short, nearly smacking her head against the door, Zora paused and listened harder.

More gunfire.

But the HQ staff was at minimum. It was the holidays, or just about – most had taken leave, and those who hadn’t wouldn’t be in this part of the facility. This was reserved for level-eight agents and the Avengers’ housing. Zora knew for a fact that she was the only level-eight agent who’d stayed on for the holiday.

Which could only mean one thing.

“Aw, _fuck_.”

Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she debated the merits of just leaving the bastard to fend for himself. He was the Winter fucking Soldier, for crying out loud – a couple of goons with guns wouldn’t kill him. Protocol demanded she vacate the premises at once to ensure the lowest possible mortality rate.

But Zora never much liked protocol, and if someone was attacking the compound while literally all of the other Avengers were away… then that someone was definitely here for Barnes.

Mind made up, she spun on her heel and sprinted in the direction of the gunfire. Up a set of stairs, to the right… Sounded like it was near the gyms.

As the young agent neared the glass dome that served as a gym-cum-training area for the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes (and sometimes lowly people like Zora), she heard another spray of bullets, glass shatter, and a very manly, very Russian curse.

Unsnapping her bag and tossing it to the floor, Zora fell to her knees and made quick work of unzipping it. She tugged her combat vest on, quickly did up all the complicated fastens as she had hundreds of times before, and grabbed her daggers. Between the knives and the Glock on her thigh… she knew she wasn’t prepared to fight whatever shitfest was occurring inside the gym. But that had never stopped her before.

Circling the wall that had covered her from the gunfight, Zora took the battle in, green eyes flashing from this to that. Men clad in all black like some B-movie SWAT team. At least ten of them, now. Just less than that dead or bleeding out on the floor. Barnes, dressed almost comically in his typical tight-fitting workout clothes, stood in the midst of them, shielding the worst of the gunshots with his arm and throwing punches left and right.

Zora stepped through the completely shattered doorway, boots crunching on glass, but not a single fighter noticed. She threw her two knives first; one at the fucker headed straight for Barnes, a semi-auto in hand. The dagger planted itself in the man’s chest with that sickening _thump_ that told Zora she’d made a powerful throw. The second knife she threw as she began to sprint, its metal slicing straight through the throat of Barnes’ next opponent.

She entered the fray. Drop-kicking the nearest operative, Zora landed on the ground with a grunt, the man barely a foot away from her, and threw her elbow so hard into his head that he blacked out. Flipping over, she swept her foot at a black-clad figure charging her, his eyes obscured by some tactical helmet, but the man jumped before she could knock him on his ass. She engaged the fight, Glock left in its holster, with just her hands. Like Steve had taught her on those very few, very rare occasions he showed her some of his boxing moves. One fist to the gut, shove straight into the solar-plexus, grab his head and bring it straight down onto her knee. Another enemy knocked out cold.

When she glanced up, she found Barnes’ deep blue eyes on her, flashing and hard, before he grunted again and literally punched the life out of a man who tried to get the jump on him. Zora was so floored by the show of pure, unadulterated force that she didn’t realize someone had lined their crosshairs up with her.

She was lucky Barnes did. He threw himself on top of her, his metal arm coming up yet again to shield the two of them from getting filled with lead, and his weight pinning her to the ground left her lungs wheezing for air. Time slowed for a moment and she thought to herself: _this is it, this is how I die, trying to keep the Winter Soldier from getting killed when he clearly needs no help at all_ , but then she was pulled to her feet, shoved behind him, and handed a rifle longer than her entire arm.

“Fucking shoot,” Barnes ordered, having snatched up a weapon of his own. Back to back, they went for headshots, Zora’s heart pounding wildly in her chest all the while, until the room was silent and empty, save for her, James Buchanan Barnes, and nearly two dozen dead men.

               

000

 

Zora was wheezing like an asthmatic, which was strange, considering she didn’t recall ever having asthma in her life.  Her chest felt ready to explode – from adrenaline? – and her body felt impossibly more bruised than it had earlier. How the hell was she still standing?

Suddenly, she was face-to-chest with the perfect male specimen and killing machine that was Sergeant Barnes. AKA the Winter Soldier. AKA the dude with the long-ish hair who had always tossed her sideways looks but never once spoke to her in the entire eight months they’d both been living at the compound. A hard feat to achieve, since they’d always crossed paths.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he demanded, and Zora realized this chest had a head with eyes, very angry eyes, that were the swirling blue only an ocean rampaged by a tempest could be. Her head tipped upwards – since when was he as tall as Steve? – to look at him straight-on.

Another wheeze. It was starting to slow. “Uh, sorry?”

A tiny line appeared between the man’s eyebrows. She hadn’t even realized he had grabbed her by the biceps until he squeezed, just the slightest, the gentlest really, until she blinked and straightened out her thoughts. Being in the midst of a battle always made her a little blood-thirsty and high. “I said, what the hell did you think you were doing? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

Coming back to herself, Zora scoffed. She stepped away from him, forcing his hands to fall to his sides. “Me? Uh, I wasn’t the one standing in the middle of nearly a dozen men in a fucking _tracksuit_ buddy!”

Barnes stared at her, blank and entirely intimidating. “I’m a supersoldier,” he said, as if this made him as indestructible as some god, “and you’re an _agent_. Never do that again.”

Oh ho ho, did she have some fucking words for this guy. She just came to his rescue and he couldn’t even act a little bit thankful? He was lucky those spooky alarms were still going off, making the soft hairs on Zora’s arms stand upright. Shaking her head at him, she pointed up and asked, “What’s happening?”

Finally, that blank mask turned into a frown. “I thought _you_ knew.”

“I’m just an _agent_ ,” Zora snapped at him. “Or have you forgotten?”

He scowled. “FRIDAY hasn’t been responsive. Have you made contact with her?”

“No,” Zora said, fighting to keep a level tone, because they were clearly in the midst of some crisis. And it was just the two of them. “Seems like the compound has gone dark. For those men to even get in here…” She trailed off, looking at the mess of bodies she and Barnes had added to Tony’s interior décor.

Barnes shared her concern. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s bad.” Then he grabbed her by the arm, yet _again_ , and started dragging her towards the door like she was some annoying dog on a leash. “We need to get to the O and A building. _Now_.”

Zora yanked her arm from his grasp and pulled back, affronted. Barnes, too, stopped, but looked back at her impatiently. “What?”

“O and A?” she questioned him. “Why? Seems to me like we need to _get out of here_.”

“Yeah,” he grit out. “But we gotta check O and A first. FRIDAY should still be operational in the war room. So quit whinin’ and let’s _go_.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she considered her options. Which were extremely limited. “Fine.” She walked past him and into the hallway to collect her go-bag. “Lead the way, supersoldier.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zora and Barnes get the hell out of Dodge.

Zora cursed at her cellphone as she trailed behind Barnes. Let him do all the heavy lifting – checking corners and covers for any more bad guys. She was trying to get some cell service, but someone had clearly put up a jammer. “Fucking _fuck_. My mom either thinks I’m dead or playing a prank again. And since I won’t be dead when I eventually turn up, she’ll think the latter. And then I _will_ be dead. The irony.”

Barnes shot her a disparaged glare. “The hell are you talking about?”

Shoving her useless phone into her bag, Zora just groaned. “Nothing. Why is this taking so long? I could’ve had our path cleared ten minutes ago.”

Those stormy blue eyes were fixed on her in the most unpleasant way. “Then why have you been on your goddamn phone this whole time?”

“Because I’m just an _agent_.”

Barnes snorted in disbelief. Shaking his head, clearly not even willing to engage her pettiness, he continued leading them towards O and A, which just so happened to be on the other end of the compound.

Zora’s cheeks flared red, both from anger and some embarrassment. Okay, yeah, she was a petty bitch. Could hold a grudge longer than the devil himself. But just because she wasn’t jacked up on some super serum didn’t mean she couldn’t handle herself.

“Come on,” Barnes said, pulling her across a large open-air room, used for conferences.

No matter how she tried to edge away from his manhandling, he always managed to get a good grip on her. What an ass. Once they’d crossed the room and into a narrow corridor yet again, he let her go. The silence between them was… awkward. And irritating.

“Remind me why the others aren’t here again?” Zora asked, playing with the strap on her backpack.

Barnes didn’t even bother to glance back. He edged forward like he was a shadow, himself, gun in front of him, crouched low to the ground. If it weren’t for his stupid tight-fitting track suit, he might’ve even looked cool doing it. “Don’t you read the news?”

“Only when I’m in it.”

She could _feel_ him roll his eyes. They came to a set of doors, the very set that connected this section of the facility to the next, and Barnes let the retinal and fingerprint scanner work its magic. “God, you sound like Tony.” The look she caught off him implied this was probably an insult. “You haven’t heard about the riots?”

“Oh, _that_ news. Yeah. You guys are pretty unpopular these days, huh?”

Now he did grace her with a look. A very scathing, very unhappy one. “I guess that’s an understatement,” he reluctantly agreed, pulling her forward again. Zora growled at him and pulled her arm from his hand, and he seemed to get the message: _stop grabbing at me_. “That’s why Steve and Tony went to Europe with the others… and why they wanted me to stay here. So they could negotiate.”

 _Without me getting in the way_ , was the unspoken part of his last sentence. Zora almost felt bad for the guy. Almost. But then he reflexively made to pull her ahead again, once he’d cleared another hallway, and her pity went out the window.

At least he remembered at the last minute and just grunted for her to hurry her ass up.

“So let me get this straight. All the other Avengers, literally _every single one of them_ , including that Parker kid, are at this conference. In Switzerland. And just you were left here. So those men came here for you and you only. Am I right?”

He just grunted, which she took as an affirmation.

“Awesome. Just awesome. And now, what? We stop at O and A, see if FRIDAY is accessible in there, and find you a way out, right? If they’re bold enough to attack the compound, then there will be more. And they probably won’t stop ‘till they have you.”

“And you,” he said, finally pausing in a doorway to look her in the eye. “You’ve got a rep now, too, I’ve heard. You seriously think they wouldn’t know that you’d be only the level-eight agent here for the holidays? If they had the intel on me, they had it on you, too.”

Zora scoffed. “What the hell do I have to do with this? I’m not the ex-assassin the world is going nuts over.” Barnes’ eyes flashed in a way that made her feel entirely like prey. Ehh… she could’ve been more eloquent about that last bit, she really could have been, but hey. It was _true_.

Punching in a key-code to a door she’d only passed through once, Barnes made a noise laying somewhere on the spectrum between a growl and a snort. “A little too much like Tony,” he grumbled, walking through the now open doors, his every stride filled with intent. Zora followed on his heels. “You’re… what do they call you, now?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Since she hadn’t really chosen the name for herself. Among other reasons.

Barnes grunted. Zora was beginning to suspect that he mostly communicated in grunts and growls. “Whatever. You’re you. You’ve got a rep. You’re here, stuck with me. And if they don’t get what they’re looking for… I’m sure they’d be more than happy to take you instead.”

Barnes didn’t explain who ‘ _they’_ were, but he didn’t have to. HYDRA. Zora started to break out in a light sweat. Fuck, she had known that someday, being associated with the Avengers, even in the most minimal way that she was, would bite her in the ass.

“So there are more people coming,” she said, pausing one last time before the door to the Avenger’s War Room. “They’ll probably be here any moment.” She had time. She could get out. She had the forest surrounding the compound mapped out entirely in her head. Caves. Burrows. A stash of goodies at certain checkpoints. Hope for the best, plan for the worst, right? Still, she cut a look towards Barnes, who had breezed into the room easily enough, and frowned.

In addition to being a petty bitch, Zora was also, occasionally, a nosy bitch. She had watched the tapes. The way HYDRA would strap this man down into that chair, wipe his brain, deep fry his memories. The screaming. The pleading. She’d seen all of it.

“Sergeant Barnes,” FRIDAY greeted, her voice a wonderful, perfect distraction. Zora stepped inside the room and let the door lock behind her. “Agent Haque. It’s good you came here.” Barnes shot Zora an _I-told-you-so_ look. “It seems the facility’s system has been hacked by an outside source. The alarm was triggered in the process, but I’m afraid most of my other security protocols have been dismantled.”

Zora watched keenly as Barnes marched over to a murky glass pod, typed in another code, and waited. A moment later, the pod opened with a _hiss_ , proffering up the man’s Winter Soldier gear.

Shit. This was getting real.

“Do you have a visual on the compound and the surrounding area?” Barnes asked the AI, stripping off his gym shirt without batting an eyelash, revealing the sculpted chest of a supersoldier and the ugly, scarred skin where his metal arm had been fused to his body.

“Yes, Sergeant. Three helicopters inbound, eight ground vehicles, and a host of roadblocks extending out for a ten-mile radius. I count three dozen men and women.”

Ah, fuck, this _was_ serious. Three dozen men and women, a helluva lot of ground and air support, blockades. This operation was extremely planned out. Zora knew her limits. She knew that her only way to get out of the compound without a couple bullets planted in her body was with the man donning his uniform right now.

Sighing, Zora swung her pack around and settled it on the floor. What better time to try out one of Stark’s neat little gadgets than when your imminent death was on the horizon? Unzipping a pocket, Zora felt around for the case and withdrew it. It opened with a _snap_ , revealing a pair of Tony Stark-esque glasses, sans all the drama and _look-at-me_ additives. The glasses were plain, perfectly clear all around, slim, and settled on her face perfectly.

They had been made for her, after all.

“The hell are those?” Barnes asked, though he seemed more curious than anything else. “Don’t tell me we’ve been walkin’ around with you half blind.”

“No.” Zora stood, pack readjusted. She tapped the side of the right rim and lights flashed before her eyes – an entire computer packed into the nano-glasswear – and blinked. The computer, the glasses, fixated on Barnes, highlighting points of weakness, past injuries worth exploiting, and a slew of other information that would be useful in combat. Also, information he probably didn’t want her to have. Oopsie. “Just some new tech,” she replied after a long pause, eyes landing on his. “Seems like I could use all the advantages I can get.”

Barnes stared at her a second before looking away, his jaw clenched. He stepped up to the window overlooking the snowy deciduous forest that surrounded the upstate compound and placed a hand on the glass. Fuck, he looked forlorn. Were their chances really that bad?

“What’s wrong?” she asked, keeping her tone level and careful. Had she missed something FRIDAY said? “What is it?”

The look he gave her over his shoulder sent a chill down her spine. A look of pure remorse, determination… and something else she didn’t want to put a name to. Couldn’t. It wasn’t the first time Zora realized she was standing alone in a room with possibly the most dangerous man alive, but it was certainly the most eye-opening.

“They should’ve sent more,” was all he said.

Zora worried her lip between her teeth. What the hell was she supposed to say to that?

 

000

 

Rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, Zora adjusted to the new Stark tech and waited for Barnes’ signal. He was just outside the War Room, door left propped open so she could see him, watching as enemy operatives swarmed the compound. The doors they couldn’t access, they bulldozed with the massive HUM-VE-esque vehicles they’d brought. She couldn’t see them, but she could hear the damage.

Sitting still was fraying her nerves.

“You must calm yourself, Agent Haque,” FRIDAY said, still in the room with Zora. “The compound can be rebuilt.”

Zora huffed out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Are you a mind reader these days?”

“Sadly, no. Though I did try to convince Wanda that it would help me be more effective with a team of tight-lipped, stubbornly independent superheroes.” Ah, there was that sarcasm Tony’s AIs were well-known for. Sometimes, she missed JARVIS. Not Vision-JARVIS. Just plain ol’ JARVIS.

“Can you tell us anything about the others?” Zora asked, surprised that Barnes hadn’t asked this himself. Unless he already knew about some standing protocol the Avengers would follow in case of an attack. “Do they know what’s happening here?”

“They’ve also gone dark,” the AI informed the agent somberly. “The conference was a ruse. Luckily, each of them seems to have gotten away and followed their own escape routes successfully, thus far. I can’t monitor them once they hit ground, though.”

Well, shit. “Do you think they’ll be okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. They’ll find a way to regroup. But first, it’s necessary to disappear for a while. That’s why you must go with the Sergeant.”

Ah, and there it was. Barnes held his hand up in a fist, glancing back at Zora. The signal that it was time to get moving, it was now or never. Into the fray they’d go again.

Glancing at the ceiling – seemed most appropriate, really – Zora said a quick, “Thank you, FRIDAY. For your help.”

“Good luck, Agent Haque.”

Ducking out of the War Room, Zora crouched beside Barnes and followed as he crept down the corridor towards the doors out of Operations and Analysis. Just before they reached the doors, he turned to her, mouth drawn in a tight line.

“You stay behind me at all times unless I tell you otherwise, understand?”

Zora was half-tempted to argue with him, but that would be a waste of precious time. Rolling her eyes, she nodded.

Barnes fixed her with a glare that said _I’m serious_ before turning back to the door. She figured they were going for stealth since he was known for a being a ghost for the past sixty years, but nope. Barnes stood and threw his metal arm straight into the glass doors of O and A, shattering the blast-proof material on impact. Glass flew around Zora, _tink_ ing to the floor like crystalized rain, while she stared up at Barnes with her mouth half open.

“I thought you were supposed to be a fucking _ghost_!” she hissed at him, standing so she could remain shielded by his massive shoulders.

Barnes just shrugged. “Maybe if they’d brought more people. You ready?”

The shattering of glass had already drawn attention their way. Shouts echoed across the courtyard, the massive HUM-VE-like vehicles stopped and redirected. It didn’t really matter if she was ready, because they just got the party started.

Zora grinned up at Barnes sharply. “See ya on the other side!” Then she sprinted past him, arms pumping at her sides, to meet the first wave of enemies.

“Fucking _hell,_ Haque!” he grunted behind her, quickly catching up. He overtook her speed, arm coming up immediately to take the first couple shots aimed at her. Just as she had hoped, since she really had only half-expected him to just let her run straight into her death. But hey, he wasn’t half bad.

Then she got knocked right in the jaw by some asshole with metal knuckles and saw stars.

Good. She fought best when she was angry.

Nearly a dozen agents surrounded them – in the distance, she could hear the _chop chop chop_ of a helicopter’s blades slicing through the air towards them – but Barnes made quick work of the baddies. For every man or woman Zora took down, Barnes took down at least _three_. It was insane. She had to stay focused on her own fight and not get too caught up watching him, instead.

After the last agent in the chilly courtyard between facilities was down, Barnes grabbed her – _ugh, again with all the grabbing_ – and hauled her towards the dormitory. As he’d said, that’s where Steve’s bike was, that beautiful Indian Bobber Zora had eyed on more than one occasion, and their way out. Whichever way out that was, she didn’t know yet, unless he planned to go through dozens of blockades.

She really wished he didn’t. There was only so much fighting a human woman could do in one day.

“Keep up,” he growled, hand still on her bicep, as if he wasn’t dragging her along with him.

“I’m _trying_.”

“Try _harder_.”

Gods, and she was just thinking he wasn’t half bad. “Then _let me go_ and I won’t be tripping over my feet every two seconds!”

He just grunted. Ah, the language of brutish men. So eloquent. But at least he had let her go.

“We only took out about a dozen back there,” Zora said to his back, half-sprinting to keep up with his long strides as they turned this way and that through the dormitory halls. “What about the others?”

Barnes whipped open a stairwell and started down, Zora hot on his heels. “That was just the ground crew sent in after the initial attack. The others will be split between the three helicopters and the blockades. Lots of area they need to cover. They won’t waste coming inside again.”

“And we’re just gonna, what? Punch our way through these blockades? In case you didn’t realize, I’m a little less bullet-resistant than you are.”

They finally came to a stop at least five flights down. Ah, the garage. Zora loved the garage. Full of Tony’s sports cars and random tactical vehicles that made her mouth water. Especially that motorcycle.

“No,” Barnes said, and Zora was really beginning to suspect that was one word he overused _way_ too much. “We’re taking the tunnels.”

“The… tunnels?”

Okay, she didn’t know about the tunnels. Sensing her irritation at being left out of the loop, Barnes finally grinned at her. “Oh, Stark didn’t tell you?”

“He did,” she said, keeping her chin high and her eye-contact strong. Didn’t matter because Barnes’ subsequent laugh said he didn’t buy her for a second. “What? He did!”

“Sure thing, doll.” He walked past all the sports cars, an armored SUV, and went straight to the motorcycle. Glancing around, Zora was beginning to realize that was a _really_ strange choice.

“Yo, soldier boy. Don’t know if you realize this or not, but that motorcycle isn’t exactly going to be the most comfortable, spacious, or safest mode of transport in this place. Especially if we get any more snow than we already have.”

Barnes’ back was still to her as he squatted down beside the bike, turned on the fuel, checked a few things here and there, shrugged. “No, maybe not. But it’s the fastest. And for how far we have to travel, the speed is necessary. And snow won’t be a problem.” He tapped the snow-tires with his boot.

Zora’s go-bag suddenly felt a little bit too light, her arms a bit too cold. “For how far we have to travel? Uh, exactly how far _is_ that?”

“We’re heading out west.”

Zora ran a hand down her face. “But we’re basically on the east coast right now.”

“Exactly. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

“And why exactly do I have to be part of this again?”

Barnes rounded on her, pointing a finger at her chest. “Don’t you get it yet? You aren’t safe here and you won’t be safe on your own.”

“Because I’m just an agent?”      

“Because you’re associated with _us_ ,” Barnes countered harshly, clearly done with her attitude. “Me. You and I got left here alone. I know it’s fucked up, and I’m sorry, but if I had intel like that, I’d say that’s not a coincidence, even though it is. So grab a helmet, grab a thick jacket, and get your ass on the back of this bike, because we don’t have all day.”

So _sassy_. And mean. Ugh. “They should call you the Grumpy Soldier,” Zora muttered on her way towards the stocked room adjacent to the garage, having everything from various helmets and moto-jackets to random weapons that Stark had probably left behind. Sliding on a thick jacket that would at least save her from the worst of road-rash if it came down to it and snatching up her designated helmet, Zora stomped back into the garage and gave Barnes a _happy now_? glare.

He was already on the bike, revving that beautiful engine, with no helmet of his own. “Hypocrite Soldier,” she added.

“I can hear you, y’know.”

“Oh, I know.”

Another ex-assassin glare. “Get on. It’s time to get out of here.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update! So I’m not sure I’ve corrected it on AO3 yet, but I know I have on FF. (I’m under the same name). I took the constructive criticism of many of my reviewers/PMers and cut out a large deal of the swearing. I stand by a lot of my reasoning for it (and sadly, I admit I listen to a LOT of rap), and it’s super well known that Bucky Barnes has a huuuuuuuge potty mouth in the comics

They made it to Iowa within a day. No rest, Barnes had told her, until they reached the safe house he and Steve had set up somewhere in Montana. Another day’s drive away, but with the way Barnes was speeding down various freeways and country roads, Zora wondered if he was cutting their travel time in half. She _also_ wondered if he was speeding so fast because it made her hold on to him just that much tighter, both for safety and to purloin some of that amazing supersoldier heat he radiated. Or maybe he couldn’t wait till she was far away from him and not touching him anymore. Ugh.

“I’m exhausted,” she complained, happy to be free of her helmet as they refilled the Bobber’s tank at some middle-of-nowhere gas station. “And hungry. And cold. And I really want a hot, hot shower. Scalding hot. Burn-my-skin-off hot.”

Barnes had proven to be fairly impervious to her whining, which only made Zora that much more inclined to whine at him. A defense mechanism, if anything. He wasn’t exactly a cuddly teddy bear after all. 

Still, she could tell she was wearing him down. Little by little, he would throw her a Look, each one longer than whatever had preceded it. Either a Silencing Look or a Stop It Look or a I Know What You’re Trying to Do and It Isn’t Working Look. This time, at the gas pump, he graced her with a Why the Hell Did I Bring You With Me? Look.

“You’re like some disgusting hybrid of Tony and Steve’s worst traits, y’know that, Haque?”

Zora held a hand to her heart, wounded. “Wow, _disgusting_? You sure know how to charm the ladies, Barnes. Really. Now I _know_ all those tales of you being a womanizer back in the day were true. I’m about ready to drop my panties for you right this second.”

Ohhhh, he was angry, now. _And_ embarrassed. That glare was one she hadn’t seen yet. And he was blushing! Beautiful. “Shut up.”

“You’re the one who called me disgusting.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Oh shit. Was that contrition? “Do you feel sorry?”

The pump stopped. Grabbing the handle of the nozzle, Barnes carefully tapped excess oil off into the fuel tank before returning it to its place on the gas pump. He slipped the same black, nameless and brandless card into the machine to pay that he’d used for the past day and a half. Something Stark had given him, probably. Untraceable and probably unlimited cash.

Normally, this was the part where he’d get back on the bike, ignore Zora’s pleas for food and a few minutes to rest, and take off on the road again. But this time, Barnes glanced at Zora briefly and headed into the gas station, leaving her to stare confusedly after him.

When he returned, he tossed a plastic bag at her and didn’t meet her eyes.

Suspicious, Zora opened the bag.

The motherlode. Gummy bears. Kit-Kats. Little donuts that definitely weren’t good for her cholesterol. A hotdog. Gatorade. Bottles of water.

He was already back on the bike. Zora quickly stuffed her face with the hotdog and took several swigs of the water, which she then held out to Barnes.

He glanced at it, uncertain, before taking it for himself and finishing the bottle.

“Apologetic Soldier,” she said to him as she stuffed the rest of the plastic bag in her backpack. Barnes didn’t look at her, but she saw some of the tension in his shoulders dissipate. He took her words for what they were: accepting his unspoken apology, and making one of her own.

“We should be at the safehouse by dawn,” he told her as she swung her leg over the bike and straddled it once more. Gods, her legs ached.

Wrapping her arms around him, Zora nodded. No more whining. “All right.”

 

000

 

When Barnes had said ‘safe-house’, she had half-expected some random cabin-in-the-woods type deal on a tiny plot of land buried beneath three feet of snow and far, far away from anything considered civilization. And that last part was true, it was. They were _terribly_ far from civilization. The nearest shopping mall had to have been an entire state away. But this was no cabin in the woods. This was a _ranch_.

“Cowboy fantasy much?” she asked, mostly to herself, as she finally dismounted the bike. Her legs ached _fiercely_ , threatening to give out under her, so she held onto the bike’s handles a little longer under the pretense that she was just taking everything in. Her arms shook from the chill that nipped at her the entire ride, lessened only by the heat of the soldier she’d had to hold on to.

“It was Stevie’s idea, not mine,” Barnes said, quiet in that way she was beginning to recognize as shy or embarrassed.

Well, Zora wasn’t necessarily complaining. The view was spectacular. A mountain vista in the background, a white forest sprawling below it, a stretch of snow-covered land that could’ve housed horses if this were a real ranch and not some stand-in safe-house for a couple of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. The place was like a little getaway.

Barnes started to move the bike towards a massive barn close to the old house, so Zora had to release her hold on balance and limp after him, boots crunching in the snow. “You guys ever come here when you’re off mission?”

He fished some keys out of his pocket and unlocked the massive padlock on the barn doors. “Nah. Haven’t had the time since my recalibration. Plus, Steve likes to work too much. Wouldn’t come out here unless he was forced to.”

“And you?” She leaned against the doorway and watched as the supersoldier tucked the bike away between some farming equipment. The barn was fairly full… but not full of things that most barns in Montana would have. No, she was pretty sure she spotted an armory and a mini-gym.

“I go where Steve goes.”

That statement alone was enough to tug at Zora’s heart. What was left of her heart, anyway. Barnes said it as if he didn’t have any care for his own desires. As if, maybe, he didn’t even have his own desires.

She knew things had been bad for the guy, but… that was a different level of bad.

“Uh, okay, well… you guys have hot water here, right?”

After what felt like a lifetime, Barnes actually graced her with a smile. A real, honest-to-goodness smile. “Yeah, Haque. We’ve got hot water. C’mon, I’ll show you the tub.”

“A _bathtub_? Sweet Jesus and Mary, I am saved.”

 

000

 

The inside of the place was like any other ranch you’d have found in Montana, including _cold_. The kitchen was large but filled with some outdated appliances and wallpapered almost obsessively. The living room had two overstuffed couches, a radio, and an ancient TV that neither Steve nor Bucky had cared to replace, it seemed. Zora counted three bedrooms upstairs: one was definitely Steve’s, if she could venture to guess after she had quickly rifled through the things in the closet and under the bed, and the other was Barnes’ simply because he’d gone in and claimed it. The third wasn’t furnished to be a bedroom, but a study, of sorts. There were books and art supplies and all sorts of things one could occupy their time with if he or she needed a safe house to lay low for a while.

After Zora had noticed the state of the third ‘bedroom’, Barnes had glanced between her and Steve’s room.

“Take mine,” he had said suddenly, quietly, surprising the level-eight agent.

Zora’s brows tugged together. “Nah, it’s okay. I can just sleep downstairs. Those couches don’t look half bad.” She wasn’t going to take Steve’s room. No, that was just too weird. As much as she was sure the Avenger’s Captain wouldn’t really mind, it was just too weird. Felt like a sin with how much purity and innocence those four walls exuded.

“Take mine,” Barnes said again, though it sounded less like an offer this time and more like a demand, “and I’ll take Stevie’s. Mine hardly has anything in it, anyway. It’s not a big deal.”

Well, it certainly beat sleeping on a couch. “Thanks,” she said, unsure what else to do. Wasn’t like arguing with him would do much good, anyway. Barnes had proven to be a huge pain in the ass when it came to arguing any point. He was stubborn as a mule.

“Bathroom’s down the hall.” He nodded in the direction. “Should already have clean towels and everything. I’m gonna head downstairs and see what kind of food we have, maybe take a look at why we’re not gettin’ enough heat in this place.”

He was already gone by the time Zora made to turn around to thank him again. Sheesh, he really was a ghost.

The thought of a nice, hot bath spurred her forward. Her face felt oily and slick since it hadn’t been washed in nearly three days, her hair not much better, and her clothing was beginning to smell like sweat. Gross.

The bathroom was done up ranch-style like the rest of the place, but in the most _heavenly_ manner. There was an honest-to-gods clawfoot bathtub in the center of the room, looking like something out of Zora’s wet dreams (eh, not necessarily true but close enough). When she turned the faucet to _hot_ , she wasn’t disappointed: it only took about a minute for lovely, scalding hot water to run.

“Oh my gods, I love you, modern luxuries. I love you so much.” She settled her go-bag against the wall and started stripping her clothes off one by one, letting them fall to the ground in a messy pile, before sinking into the now half-full tub to thaw out her freezing bones.

After three crazy days, Zora settled back and allowed herself a few minutes to feel like a human being.

 

000

 

“How’s everything down here?” she asked half an hour later, bouncing down the stairs with an air of happiness. A hot bath and a fresh change of clothes could do wonders for a girl’s moral.

Barnes was sitting at the little breakfast bar in the kitchen, organizing canned food into little groupings. He glanced up at her with a tiny smirk, and Zora had a feeling it wasn’t because she looked silly with towel-dried hair. “Well, I heard you whispering sweet nothings to the bathtub, but other than that, no problems.”

Ah. Was her skin feeling suddenly hotter? No. No, it was probably just leftover from the bath. “You can hear _that_ well?”

He pointed at himself, that lazy smirk still in place. “Supersoldier, doll.”

Zora narrowed her eyes at the sergeant. “You’re not charming whatsoever.”

“You whine incessantly, so coming from you, that doesn’t really bother me.”

Plopping down on the stool beside him, Zora said, “I’ll have you know that I didn’t whine once since we left Iowa. Therefore, your argument is null.”

He snorted but let it go. “We’ve got a decent amount of food. Just dry goods, though.” Barnes’ gaze picked up, blue eyes staring out the window into the pasture and the forest beyond. “I’ll have to go hunting.”

“Oh.” Zora fidgeted. “You mean, like… bunnies?”

The look he gave her was a hybrid between amused and exasperated. “You think _bunnies_ will keep you fed?”

“Nooo…” She shifted away from him and picked up a can of peaches, turned it around in her hand.

Barnes studied her a moment. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Zora blinked up at him innocently. “What?”

“You’re afraid of hunting.”

“No,” she scoffed. “I’m not _afraid_ of hunting. I don’t even think that’s a thing. I just… haven’t hunted before. Or ever had the desire to. Or eaten something that has been hunted.”

Barnes rolled his eyes. “What do you think you’re eating when you buy beef at a grocery store?”

“It’s _different_.”

“Why? ‘Cause you don’t have to look the poor creature in the eyes before you make it into a hamburger?”

Setting the can down, Zora chewed on the inside of her cheek and sighed. “Whatever. I get it. We’re going hunting. When?” She glanced at the clock above the old stove. “It’ll get dark soon. Is that a good time to go?”

He was staring at her oddly. Before she could voice this, though, he spoke up. “Nah. We’ll go in the morning. Around ten. Be down here at nine forty-five.” Then he was gone, disappearing up the stairs once more.

Zora huffed. Being shacked up with the ex-Soviet assassin was going to be _rough_.

 


	4. Chapter 4

At exactly nine forty-five the next morning, Zora walked downstairs. She’d slept rather fitfully in the soldier’s bed after finding a few old photographs of him and Steve shoved under the mattress, as if he’d been trying to hide them there. And he probably had been. When Barnes had told her that he and Steve hadn’t had time to stay here since his ‘recalibration’, she thought he meant that they’d stopped by at some point.

Now she was beginning to wonder if this is where they had dissembled the Winter Soldier and rebuilt the man that had become an Avenger.

It was heartbreaking.

She hadn’t been able to get the photographs out of her head. Barnes looked so _different_. Shorter hair, for one, but that was just the obvious. No, it was all in his eyes. They looked lighter, back then. Even in some of the photos taken during the war. Happier. Like there had been something inside him, some light or soul or _something_ , that wasn’t there anymore.

That night, she had dreamed of a black chair, a little red book, and screams. So much screaming.

When she arrived in the kitchen the next morning at the designated time, Glock holstered on her thigh and dressed for a freezing morning out in the forest, she knew there were likely chalky half-moons beneath her eyes. She completely forgot about that, though, the second she saw Barnes.

He was putting raw meat away in the massive freezer at the edge of the kitchen. What looked to be freshly cut raw meat – still a little bloody. Zora stared at him a few moments in utter silence. He looked exhausted, like he too had not slept well or maybe hadn’t even slept, and was dressed in all black, bereft of boots that had been stashed on the rug near the back door. Boots that had lots of drying muddy snow on them.

“You went without me.” It was a hollow statement, just a fact spoken into the room, but Zora felt… strange. When Barnes glanced up at her, her chest tightened. Those eyes were worlds different than those of the man in his photographs. But they softened as he smirked at her and shrugged.

“Yeah.”

“That’s it? Yeah?” She wasn’t mad – far from it. Zora could kill a man in his sleep and not feel remorse, but killing an animal… it never sat right with her. So she’d never done it. And she hadn’t wanted to, but if that’s what Barnes had decided they should do, then she wasn’t going to chicken out. “You went without me.”

“You already said that, sweetheart.”

The endearments seemed like second-nature to him, so she didn’t really pay them any mind. What she _did_ notice, however, was the tiny ghost of a smile that stayed on the man’s lips as he continued to load up the freezer.

“I could’ve helped,” she said, stepping further into the kitchen, still a little thrown-off by the whole gesture.

Barnes paused. He set down another pound of meat and faced her, his expression shuttered. “I didn’t leave ya here because I thought you couldn’t help,” he said carefully, as if he was worried she was upset. Ohhhh ho, she wasn’t. “I just figured… you don’t like hunting.”

Zora stared at him stupidly. It was right then, in that moment, that her opinion of James Buchanan Barnes began to shift. No longer was he the stranger who kept his distance from her and shot her strange looks whenever they crossed paths at the compound, or the ex-assassin with a dark past which kept all the other agents from interacting with him. No. Sergeant James ‘Bucky’ Barnes… The Winter Soldier… Whatever you wanted to call him. He was really _sweet_.

 

000

 

Later that day, Zora grabbed a map of the state someone had kindly left in the living room and sat down at the dining table. She’d already unpacked and repacked the items from her go-bag and started laundry on her and Barnes’ things from the trip they’d taken to get here, so she knew that neither of them had enough clothes to last however long they were meant to stay. Especially since it was the middle of winter. In Montana. No, she didn’t have nearly enough to keep her warm if they ever needed to book it out of here and into the forest, which stretched on for miles and miles without end. So she’d need to get some shopping done.

Barnes walked in not long after she’d sat down, bare chest glistening with sweat. Ugh. She would’ve wondered why he wasn’t wearing a shirt to workout if she didn’t know that he simply didn’t have one to spare. Still, it was cold outside, freezing cold, and he had to have felt some of that, right?

Moreover: she would _never_ get used to the supersoldier physique. And that was putting it mildly.

“Whatchu doing?” he asked, rubbing sweat from his forehead as he approached her. For not the first time, Zora was a little in awe of his metal arm. The way it moved like any flesh-and-blood arm would, its silence, its mechanics. She was no engineer, but she was certain there was a lot of genius that went into that arm, even if that genius came from the wrong side of many wars.

“Trying to figure out where I can pick us up some gear,” she told him, forcing herself to look down at the map again. “We barely have enough clothes each, not to mention clothing fit for a winter in Montana.” She gestured at his naked chest as evidence. “You can’t just walk between here and the barn like that. You’ll get sick.”

He shrugged. “I can’t get sick. But we _do_ need more stuff.” He made a face. “I’m not a big fan of the cold.”

Ah. Right. The whole being frozen over and over again thing.

“Yeah. So I’ve got some shopping to do.”

There was a stretch of silence, long enough that Zora pulled her eyes up from the map and assessed the ex-assassin. Although his face was utterly blank, his muscles, which were so readily on display, were tense.

“What?” she asked.

Barnes shifted on his feet. “You can’t just leave.”

Brow furrowing, Zora sat back in her chair. “Yes I can. I saw that old pick-up truck in the barn – I’ll take that, get to…” she turned back to the map, pointed at the circle she had made, “Greenville, just twenty miles away, get some stuff and come back.”       

Still, Barnes didn’t seem to be mollified. “No. It’s risky. We had to get here quickly so we could stay under the radar – you can’t just go gallivanting around, now. We’ve gotta stay _here_.”

“You just said yourself that we need more stuff,” she pointed out, trying hard, so very hard, to keep the accusation out of her tone. Because, yeah. She was wondering if this had to do with her merely being an ‘agent’ yet again.

Resting his hands on the table, glaring down at the map, Barnes replied reluctantly, “Yeah.” Then he glanced at his arm – the metal one. “But I can’t go with you, and I can’t let you go alone.”

Ahhh. Canting her chin in her best _you-can’t-tell-me-what-to-do_ , Zora made sure her tone was firm. “You don’t need to go with me.” Words slow, like she was speaking to a little kid. “I can do this on my own. Just leave me a list of what you want.” She stood up, brushed imaginary dust from her pants. “I’m leaving in thirty minutes.”

 

000

 

It had taken three hours total to get to the small town of Greenville, Montana, find a proper store, purchase some much needed clothing for both her and Barnes, and get back to the safe-house. An hour added since she’d driven around in circles for a while just to make sure she didn’t have a tail before she took a circuitous route back.

Barnes was, as she expected, waiting for her out on the porch, pacing. Seemed he’d flipped their laundry already since he was wearing the shirt and jacket she had washed earlier, looking too lightly dressed for all the snow that covered the landscape around the house.

After she’d backed the pickup into the barn, she hopped out and nearly collided with the soldier’s chest. He was standing so close to her that she could feel the unnatural heat radiate off his body and deliciously soak right into hers.

Okay, so being a supersoldier definitely had its perks.

“How did it go?” he asked. “Were you followed? Anyone give you trouble? Ask too many questions?”

Zora stared up at him blankly, allowed more of his heat to steal away into her skin, and gave him a long, slow blink. “Paranoid Soldier,” she said, poking her index finger into his chest to force him a step away. Despite the lovely heat, he was decidedly _too_ close. “I’m trained in this, you know? Don’t let the pretty face fool you.” With that, she ignored all his questions and turned back to the vehicle, hauling one bag after another out.

Barnes was quick to grab them all for her. Were he a normal man, even he would have had to make multiple trips. There was a _lot_ of stuff, and none of it was light.

Chivalry wasn’t quite dead because there were two ninety-year-old supersoldiers on this planet, and damn, they had manners.

“Answer my questions,” he told her, voice gruff and eyes penetrating.

Okay, maybe not too many manners.

Zora sighed. Slamming the truck door shut, she followed Barnes outside, across a snow-speckled path, and back into the house. It was blessedly warm inside – clearly, he had figured out what was wrong with the heat issue – and Zora shucked off the thick winter jacket she’d purchased earlier.

“It went fine,” she answered in order. “I wasn’t followed, and before you ask, yes I am _sure_. No one asked me anything, except if I’m sick ‘cause I’m so pale. Which I take offense to, in case you ever wondered. I don’t _like_ to tan.”

Setting the amalgamation of bags on the massive dining table, Barnes evaluated Zora. “All right.”

All right? Honestly, she was surprised that was the end of his line of questioning. But hell, she wasn’t about to look the gift horse in the mouth. Or rather, open her mouth and question his sudden acceptance.

“All right,” she echoed him, watching as he neatly – almost obsessively so – unpacked the gear and set the items into various his and her piles. She leaned back against the wall that divided the kitchen area from the dining and watched him, a small smile curling on her lips. She should warn him, she really should, but since witnessing his blush the previous day, Zora couldn’t help herself. She _wanted_ him to find them.

Three bags unpacked, two left, and a growing pile of warm clothing and other necessities on the table. When Barnes reached for the smaller bag, Zora smothered a grin and watched as his hand darted inside and came back out.

Barnes went completely rigid. There, in his calloused supersoldier hands, were several bunched up pairs of panties Zora had purchased at the town’s only boutique. Somewhat small… okay, very small… lacy panties, because Zora had a preference and the grannie ones certainly weren’t it.

He dropped them in the ‘ _her_ ’ pile so quickly, it was as if the lace itself was a ball of flames that had been shoved into his hands. Then he turned a glare on her. It would have sent a shiver down her spine were there not a lovely pink tint to his cheeks.

“You could’ve said something,” he grumbled, grabbing the last large bag, peeking inside for good measure, and determinedly unloading that in order to avoid Zora’s amused gaze.

She couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore. “And miss seeing the Winter Soldier blush? Never.”

“You’re a menace.”

“That’s the kindest thing you’ve said to me in three days.”

“A pain in my ass.”

“Actually, I _do_ see the charm now.”

His dark, steely blue eyes met hers again, and this time, she did shiver. “I started a stew,” he changed the topic. “Should be ready in an hour.” Dismissive tone. Awww, had she actually pissed the poor guy off?

Shoving off the wall, Zora rolled her eyes. “Aw come on, it was just some good fun. It’s not like you haven’t seen panties since the forties, Barnes.”

If it was at all possible, the soldier grew even tenser.

Oh, shit.

“Oh, shit,” she echoed her thoughts. She stared at his massive, muscular and intimidating back for approximately .2 seconds before she darted out of the room and upstairs, because yes, she could absolutely picture the Winter Soldier murdering her right now.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you like this at all! I know my writing could be more refined, but sadly I only get to work on writing here and there these days. So it means a lot to know if I have any readership!


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky stared down into his bowl of stew, willing himself to keep from fidgeting under Zora’s sneaky glances his way. His neck felt hot and he knew a light blush was covering his skin, probably making him look a helluva lot like Stevie back in the old days, when the punk would spot a dame he liked and get struck down time after time.

Still, Steve had never let it stop him from trying again. So Bucky wasn’t about to let one woman get under his skin so easily.

She was lucky she was so quick to dart upstairs after her comment earlier: _It’s not like you haven’t seen panties since the forties, Barnes_. He hadn’t been necessarily mad, no. He had been _mortified_. Absolutely mortified. Here he was, shacked up with the rather infamous Agent Zora Haque for God knew how long, and now she knew something about him that made her eyes glimmer with sympathy, fear, and more than a little curiosity.

And her sneaky glances were _not_ sneaky at all.

“Stop it,” he finally said, his voice coming out harsher than he had intended, making her flinch in her seat. He paused and made sure to place both his hands on the dining table, easily within view – he wasn’t trying to be threatening, and the last person he wanted to be afraid of him was the woman who was, quite literally, stuck with him. “Sorry.” Rubbed at the back of his head, dared to glance up at her too-green eyes. “I just… stop starin’ at me, all right?”

She pressed her lips together in a thin line, and by now, he _knew_ that look. She was dying to say something, to ask him something – one of the two. But, surprisingly, she just nodded. “Sorry.”

After they had eaten their meal in relative silence, he felt the need to mumble under his breath, “And so what if I haven’t seen panties since the forties? Those were _scraps_ of fabric – scraps.” He fixed her with a hard look when she started to smirk at him, now that she was relaxed, and pointed a finger at her. “And I swear to God, Haque, that’s all I have to say on the matter.”

Still, her eyes glinted with a smile. “Sir, yes sir.”

He groaned internally. He knew, with this woman, that wouldn’t be the end of it.

 

000

 

Bucky hadn’t slept in three days. It was starting to wear on him, making his limbs feel heavier, his eyes sting. But three days was hardly anything compared to what HYDRA had him doing. No, he’d gotten a little softer during his time with the Avengers. It had taken a while to get used to – to be allowed to sleep, eat, do as he pleased when he pleased… But he had slowly eased himself into it, and now found himself missing the bed back on compound; a luxury. The security of sleeping close to Steve’s quarters, who could handle Bucky if there was any issue, or any of the other Avengers. He had felt safe enough to let himself rest. Like if the monster ever decided to come out again, it could be handled.

Here, with only Agent Haque… He was afraid he’d wake from a nightmare and scare her half to death. Or worse. Hurt her, somehow.

So he sat in the living room most nights, a book in hand that he wasn’t quite reading, and listened intently to the sounds outside. There were wolves stalking deer at the ranch’s perimeter, an owl beating heavy wings through the crisp night air, rodents scurrying around here and there.

There was a shuffle upstairs, a little gasp. Bucky opened his eyes – when had he even closed them? – and listened again as Zora turned restlessly in her bed before falling still once more. It was a nightly occurrence, he was beginning to realize. Something would rouse her from sleep, and she’d lay in bed for the rest of the night, wide awake.

Something they had in common, he supposed.

However, on this night, she surprised him by wandering downstairs not long after. She was dressed rather silly: an oversized grey long sleeved shirt that reached her thighs – wait, was that _his_? – and thick wool socks up to her knees.

He only allowed his gaze to dart to that small amount of exposed skin between the two garments before settling on her face, which was pinched with exhaustion, and tried desperately not to think about how she was so casually wearing his shirt. Did this woman not know boundaries whatsoever?

“How long’ve you been down here?” she asked, a yawn pulled from her lips. She stretched, pulling the shirt – _his_ shirt – up a few inches before wandering over to the fridge to peer inside.

Bucky hadn’t even realized he hadn’t answered until she’d poured them both a glass of milk and handed one to him, a question on her face. “You okay?”

He cleared his throat, accepted the glass with a nod of thanks. “Yeah. Uh, a while, I guess. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Same,” she agreed, settling down on the couch across from him, tucking her legs beneath her. She glanced down at the shirt. “Hope you don’t mind, but I couldn’t find much else that was comfortable enough to sleep in. Kinda forgot when I was at the store. Wasn’t much of a priority.”

Bucky averted his gaze to the book he hadn’t been reading. “’s fine.” It wasn’t. Made him feel all… weird. Dames back in his day weren’t so cavalier about those kinda things.

Zora was silent a long while, which he knew by now was unusual for her. When he glanced up again, he found her staring at her hands, wringing them over and over again.

For not the first time, he wished Steve was here. Steve would know what to do right now – what to say, how to act. But Bucky had barely integrated himself back in the world. He could hardly get himself to sleep through the night, let alone try to talk to a woman he had purposefully avoided back on compound.

And now fate had tossed the pair together… And Bucky had no idea what the hell to do.

It wasn’t that he disliked the woman. Not at all. He just… felt _unnerved_ by her. A lot. Back at the compound, if he couldn’t sleep, he’d just head down to the gym and work out all his stress. Seemed like it was her habit, too, when she wasn’t off on some mission. They had crossed paths on a near-daily basis, and Bucky had made certain to keep his distance from her. He hadn’t quite wanted to know why she was so unnerving.

Now he was starting to understand.

“You worried about Steve and the others?”

Her quiet voice broke him from his reverie. He glanced up to find her studying him carefully, her bottom lip worried between her teeth. She wasn’t usually so open to read – only the day before, when she’d come downstairs and realized he’d gone hunting without her, had he been able to see she had taken his kind gesture to heart. She had looked soft. That same soft, well-meaning look was in her expression again.

His chest felt tight.

“Suppose I am,” he allowed, playing with the edge of the book. “But Steve can handle himself. The others, too. They had a plan in case things went sideways. Romanov had insisted.”

“Good thing she did,” Zora added quietly, eyes downturned again. “And what about us? How long do we have to stay here for?”

“Don’t know.” He half shrugged. “’till Steve comes, for now. We’ll see what he has to say. Where things stand.”

“Steve’s coming?”

Was that a hint of panic in her voice? Bucky glanced sidelong at her. “Yeah, the punk is the one who had this place built. Technically it’s his safehouse, not mine.”

“Oh.” Yeah, she was definitely trying to play it off as not being panicked. “All right.”

“That bother you?”

“No,” she answered quickly, purposefully looking him in the eye. “Why would it?”

“You tell me.”

Finally, she rolled her eyes. Her shoulders relaxed, and she nabbed a wool blanket hanging off the back of the couch to drape over herself. _Thank God_ , he thought, watching as it covered up her bare thighs. Maybe now he could actually hold her gaze.

“Doesn’t bother me,” she repeated. “Just – I’m gonna be stuck with two World War Two relics for gods know how long – no offense – and it wasn’t really on my Christmas itinerary this year.”

Christmas? Bucky felt stupid glancing outside – the snow stretched on for miles and miles, only breaking up as it dusted off the pine forest out back. How had he forgotten about Christmas? He and Stevie used to celebrate together all the time.

“Yeah,” Zora agreed wearily, reading his surprised expression. “I know. Guess it’s hard for superheroes to keep track of the holidays, too, huh?”

“Guess so.” He heard her yawn again and turned to watch her snuggle into the couch, curled up like a cat. “Don’t you wanna sleep upstairs? Probably comfier.”

“Nah.” She stifled another yawn, closed her eyes. “Safer down here.”

She fell asleep almost immediately, and Bucky sat in a stunned silence. He’d been called many things over the years – ghost, monster, murderer, assassin, weapon – but never _safe_.

He watched her a while longer, turning that thought over in his head, until the sun rose.

 

000

 

Zora snuggled closer into the scratchy pillow her face was mashed against. Her eyes felt heavy – her whole body felt heavy, actually – and she desperately wanted to go back to sleep. But something had woken her up. Soft noises to her right, metal on metal, something fragile cracking.

Peeling her eyes open, she squinted against the morning sun to find the Winter Soldier. In the kitchen. Making breakfast.

The sight almost made her laugh. Almost.

Then she remembered the night before, her nightmare, coming downstairs to unsurprisingly find him already awake, and then falling asleep on the couch. Poor guy. He had probably been trying to get some respite from her presence… not have to deal with her taking up even more of his space.

Stretching as she sat up, Zora yawned quietly and raised her arms over her head. The blanket fell away, and she realized, too, that she was wearing his shirt. Because _that_ had seemed completely fine at the time.

Ugh. She was probably suffocating the guy.

“Sleep well?” he asked, his voice surprisingly lighter than it usually was. Zora blinked blearily at him, and he shot her a slight smirk as he cracked another egg into the skillet. “You talk in your sleep, y’know.”

She could feel her cheeks turn red. “Uh… no I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Crap. Had she said something embarrassing? Like how she was nervous about being around not only one extremely hot supersoldier, but two? Or how she felt safer around him now, since the whole _I-went-hunting-alone-so-you-didn’t-have-to_? Wait, she had already said that. Last night. Aloud.

Ugh.

As she watched him scramble the eggs, she caught another smirk on his face. It was… nice. Even if it was at her own expense. He looked younger. Like the man in the photos shoved under his bed.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t say anything _too_ bad.”

“… What did I say, exactly?”

“Something about your passionate love for a jacuzzi.” Oh, that wasn’t so bad. Then he turned that smirk on her full-force, and her stomach pretty much plummeted to the ground. Is that what a panty-dropping grin looked like? “And that you liked my arms. And my face.”

Zora stood upright immediately, panic seizing her heart. “Uh, yeah… I’m gonna go get dressed.”

She could hear him laughing all the way upstairs.

 

000

 

After breakfast, Zora had crossed the snowy path between the main house and the barn to inspect whatever gadgets Captain America had decided to stash away. Bucky had sauntered upstairs, leaving her to peruse the interior of the barn alone.

There was a small ring with a heavy bag in the far back corner, a good-sized armory next to it, free weights and a leg press machine, some four-wheelers and a dirt bike near where Bucky had parked the motorcycle, and a slew of boxes that looked relatively new but unopened.

Grabbing a crowbar from off the wall, Zora pried one of the boxes open, splintering some of the wood, before tossing the tool and the top aside. After peering inside, both her eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline.

“Not sure why you’d be so surprised,” Bucky said from the doorway, making her flinch. Ugh, he _was_ a ghost! Plus, where he stood, leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest, hair still wet from the shower he must’ve just taken… Zora quickly looked back down into the supply box. “Steve said I could have whatever I wanted shipped out here.”

She picked up the object inside the box, tested its weight in her arms. “So you decided to have a grenade launcher shipped out? Do I even wanna know how you managed to get one?”

Another hint of a smile on the soldier’s face. “Stark used to sell weapons.”

Sure enough, on the side of the weapon was STARK in all white letters. Zora huffed out a laugh. “Okay, fair enough. Seems kinda impractical, though. Besides… I’m more of a dagger kinda girl.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Walking towards another crate, Bucky pried it off with just his metal hand alone – sheesh – and tossed the wooden top to the side. A moment later, he was flicking two black, beautiful daggers around his fingers expertly. Like they were toys.

She had to admit… the sight was _not_ unwelcome.

“All right, gimme gimme,” she begged, reaching out for the daggers. They’d look beautiful sheathed in her vest, that’s for sure. Probably perfectly balanced…

Barnes held them just out of reach. “These are _mine_.”

“Not anymore, they aren’t.”

“What’ll you trade for ‘em, then?”

“Trade?” Zora pouted, and she knew she was doing it. Normally, it melted a man right on the spot – sticking her bottom lip out just the slightest, giving her eyes that wider innocent look. But not the Winter Soldier. His gaze darted to her mouth, just briefly, before he stared back at her, unfazed.

“Sorry, princess, but you don’t get these for free. I had them special-made.”

Wracking her brain for any other tactics to use on the assassin, Zora sadly came up short. How could you manipulate a 90-year-old former soviet assassin super soldier into giving you something he owned? 

“… I’ll fight you for them.”

Even she was shocked at the words that fell from her lips. Fight _him_? For a pair of daggers? Possibly the stupidest idea she’d ever had. The surprised smirk on his face said he thought the same.

“Deal,” he still said, making her hands begin to sweat despite the cold of the barn.

Well, crap. He wasn’t supposed to _agree_. He was supposed to take pity on her desperate desire for the daggers and just hand ‘em over. Simple.

His slate-blue eyes glimmered almost mischievously. He flicked the daggers around his fingers again, clearly thinking she’d back out.

Zora gritted her teeth together. “Fine. Where?”

Tossing the daggers aside – they went straight into the barn wall with two quiet _thumps_ – Bucky held his hands out. “Why not here?”       

“Because there’s literally a grenade launcher and ammo and all sorts of explosives all around us?”

“Doesn’t that just add to the fun?”

Zora huffed. “Fine.” She slunk back a few steps and sized him up, squaring her stance. “You’re on, pretty boy.”

Bucky made a face. “Pretty boy?”

Before he could get another word in edgewise, she launched herself at him. Tried to look like she was throwing a fist at his face but went to sweep his legs from out beneath him instead. Still, he was too quick for her – breathtakingly quick. He knocked her leg aside in what she assumed was a gentler manner for the likes of him, but she nearly went sprawling into the wall with the knives in it. Righting herself, she blocked the three jabs he sent her way – gods, even at his breakneck pace, she could tell he wasn’t _actually_ trying – and dashed towards the wall when he was least expecting it. Kicking off at a height around her hip, she used the momentum to swing up around his shoulders.

If her pride wasn’t at stake, she’d want someone to take photo evidence of her piggybacking the Winter Soldier. Alas.

Trying to use his weight against him, Zora wrapped her legs around his shoulders and tried to throw herself backwards.

He hardly budged.

One of his massive hands wrapped around her leg and yanked – still, not nearly as hard as she imagined he could – and sent her sprawling to the ground once more.

Zora tried for fifteen more minutes to get the drop on the man and failed every single time. Sweat accumulated on her forehead, but still she tried. Finally, when he saw she was getting too tired, Bucky pinned her to the ground in one swift move and smirked.

“Ready to admit defeat yet, doll?”

Zora glared up at him, chest heaving. “Never.”

Something in his eyes shifted. He was still wearing that smirk, but something else was present now, something she couldn’t quite put a name to.

Then he stiffened over her, cocked his head, and looked away. Towards the massive barn doors behind her. Like a hound that had caught a scent.

“What?” Zora asked. “What is it?”

Lips pressed into a tight line, Bucky stood quickly, pulling Zora with him. She nearly fell into him, bracing a hand on his chest briefly before quickly darting away.

“People,” he said. “A lot of them.” He cocked his head again, concentrated. “And a chopper.”

Zora exhaled, suddenly feeling naked without her bullet-proof vest. “They found us again?”

“Seems like it.” Bucky only stared off into the middle-distance a moment longer before fixing Zora with a long look. “Get your gear and get ready.” He started walking towards the doors, spine unnervingly straight and that Winter-Soldier swagger fully present, like he wasn’t just a man in a t-shirt and jeans about to take on an army. “I’ll hold ‘em off as long as I can.”

“I’m not leaving you behind.”

He glared over his shoulder. “You are if I say you are.”

“Bullshit.” Zora went to yank the daggers from the wall. “We’re doing this together, Barnes. And then we’re getting out of here. That’s that.”

Before he could respond, she dashed outside, over the snowy path, and into the house to get her gear.

They had another army to fight for the second time in one week.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed so I know whether to keep adding to this or not.


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